Sunday, May 26, 2013

We left the next day for Nuku
Hiva and had a great sail. We dropped
our anchor in Baie Taiohae with a couple dozen other boats. Once we were settled in, Richard and I went
to shore in the dinghy and bumped into Heidi and Joe from s/v Huck.
The four of us, plus Joe and Liz from s/v Set Me Free, headed to a little restaurant and ordered a round of
Hinanos and talked about our passages.
Joe (from Huck) mentioned that
the agent they used to clear into the country has a brother here on the island
that does traditional Marquesan tattoos.
That was all I needed to hear. I
have been thinking about this tattoo for a couple of years now and here I was
in the Marquesas with a tatt connection.
It doesn’t get much better than that.

Heidi told me that all I had to
do was go down to the second food truck and ask for the tattoo guy…that
simple. So after our beers, Richard and
I walked down to the second food truck and I inquired about the tattoo guy in
my less than perfect French. “Excusez
moi, mais une amie me dit que le frère du son agent ici faire le tatouage and
je cherche pour lui. Lui
connaissez-vous?” It might not have been
correct, but the next thing I know the woman in the food truck is on her cell
and asks me, in French, what time I’d like my tattoo tomorrow? “A dix heure a la matin?” “Ca va bien!”
And it was done!

I told Ben about my discovery
and he indicated that he would come along for moral support. Richard was at best “neutral” about the idea
of me getting more ink so having Ben along made the experience at least a bit
more exciting. The next morning, Richard
took Ben and me to the small pier, I stopped at the bank and then Ben and I
headed to the food truck where we were picked up by Francois who drove us out
to his house. Now, this might not mean much
to most of you, but this Francois is the grandson of Daniel of Daniel’s Bay in
Nuku Hiva. And Daniel’s Bay was the set
location for the very first “Survivor” season.
And we will be anchoring in Daniel’s Bay in a few days so the “full
circle “ of getting a traditional tattoo in the Marquesas really hit home for
me.

Let the tatting begin!

Francois and I talked a bit
about my life so that he could put together a “story” in the form of
traditional Marquesan motifs. Francois
speaks very little English so the entire day, about eight hours in all, was
spent speaking in French. He then drew the design on my arm and once he was done
that I jumped up on the table and the needles came out. In all I spent 4 hours under the needle, and
for the majority of that time, I really have to admit that it was a painless
experience. Yea, a few times the design
was in those fleshy places that hurt, but for the most part it was no big
deal. By the time it was done, the
design had morphed into something that started on my shoulder and worked its
way down to my elbow. Opps…the original
design that I had showed Richard was about the size of a quarter and somehow I
ended up with a significantly larger tattoo.
Ben confirmed that it looked great and that the modifications that
Francois was making while the needle was going were definitely enhancing the
overall design.

Almost done.

When Francois finally pulled
the needle away and I got up off of the table and had my first look at his work
I was amazed. I looked over at Ben and
he gave me the “thumbs up” indicating that he thought it looked good and when I
looked over at Francois, he seemed somewhere else as he admired his ink work,
and kept repeating, “Tres joli”. The rest of the story goes something
like this…Ben got convinced to get a tattoo of a manta ray on his ankle
(ouch!), which looks great and he loves (he was a tattoo virgin prior to this “peer
pressure”). We called Richard on the VHF
radio and met up with him and Jory on the dock and then went back to Kyanos where Ben made pizza for the four
of us.

And here it is…I hope you like it as much as I
do because I LOVE IT!

Excuse the mess in the background and focus your attention on the tattoo.Per the artist: PLEASE DO NOT COPY THIS DESIGN...thanks.

I wanted to go to shore one day to do some laundry. There was a tree that had a hanging faucet
with fresh water right on the beach so one day I took our big bucket, the
plunger, some detergent and my dirty clothes to shore intent on doing my
laundry. I approached the faucet, turned
the handle and nothing came out. The
locals who were sitting around told me that the water was turned off and would
not be turned on until 5 PM. I checked
my watch and noted that it was a little after 3 PM, so I gathered my stuff and
started to head back to the dinghy to go back to the boat. Just then, one of the locals hollered out
that I should sit around and wait.
Hmmm? Spend two hours sitting around
or row back to the boat to wait it out?
In the end I opted to stay on shore and hope for the best.

As I was sitting there, a guy approached me and told me
about another faucet up the road
where I could do my laundry and he offered to take me there. I confirmed that he would not only take me
there but that he would bring me back to the beach when I was done which he
happily confirmed. That said, I threw my
laundry into the back of his pickup, hopped in the passenger seat and set off
on a Marquesan adventure. I say
adventure because less than a century ago there was cannibalism on these
islands. But that was not in the stars
that day for me (to be boiled and served with potatoes, poi or
breadfruit). Instead, my Marquesan
friend dropped me off at another spigot and promised to return in about an
hour. Sounded good to me.

Breadfruit, the other potato(and it makes great hummus!).

So there I stood on the sidewalk of a residential part of
the village with a big blue bucket full of dirty laundry and a pamplemousse
tree right next to me. I started to fill
the bucket, added detergent, dropped in my dirty clothes and went to town with
the plunger “agitating” my clothes.
While this method of doing laundry works, it doesn’t have the same
results as the machine in your basement.
Oh well, it’s not like I have to look super clean or fancy for anything
these days. Most days I’m lucky to
remember to brush my teeth…yes I did just say that! Back to the laundry. The scene must have looked hilarious. There I was “agitating” my laundry with
people walking up and down the street…”Bonjour!” “Bonjour.”
I’m sure I looked like an idiot and it was only the fact that this was
neither the first nor last time that I would look like an idiot in my life that
I persevered. So “Bonjour!” to you and
you and you!

After about an hour, my “ride” showed up just as I was
wringing the last of my laundry around a metal pole sticking out of the road
(it worked!). I gathered my stuff, threw
it into the back of his truck, hoped in and I was immediately offered some
weed. Hmmm? Thanks (or “merci beaucoup”) but I’m
good. “Pas de problem.”

These peppers are everywhere...and blazing HOT!

My new friend’s name was Harris and when we go back to
the beach he introduced me to several of his other friends who invited me to
attend a picnic the next day on the beach.
Free local food? Count me
in! So the next day, Richard and I and
our friends Ben and Jory, showed up on the beach at noon. We sat around for a bit, wondering where the
food was, but then my new friend Cana asked if we wanted beers…ah, yes,
please! So we walked back to Cana’s truck
and he opens a cooler and takes out beers (Hinano…Tahitian beer) for all of us
(he opened them on the lock latch on the inside of the car door).

Papaya tree...the fruit usually seemout of reach.

When we finally started to eat there was some
initial confusion as to whether one of the dishes on the table was bait or an
appetizer; turns out it can be either!
Luckily, Cana stated flatly that he doesn’t eat it which immediately
made me feel better. I have worried that
I would insult locals when I refused to eat something that I perceived as being
gross (like monkey eyes or the testicles of ANY animal). Dodged that bullet did I! The rest of the food was actually pretty
good. We had goat stew (very tasty…I
actually really like goat and have had it several times since arriving here)
with rice, chicken, mushrooms and rice, baked breadfruit (that literally tears
apart like fresh bread and is used to slop up gravy), fried bananas, and other
little nibbly things that were awesome despite my being unable to completely
identify them.

Cana also handed me a box containing about a dozen
pamplemousse…my new favorite thing to eat.
Pamplemousse is sooo good! It’s a
giant grapefruit without the tartness, amazingly juicy and sweet. I have been eating these things like crazy
and cannot seem to get enough of them. Luckily,
everyone seems to be down with handing you several whenever they meet you.

We thanked Cana for his gracious hospitality and
for sharing both his food and introducing us to his family. By the way, the picnic was an event held by
the lawn bowling (bocce) money league he belongs to and each team had a picnic
table loaded with food. I handed Cana a
spool of 50 pound test fishing line and about a dozen tuna hooks, hoping that
he could use them.

Friday, May 24, 2013

I'm sitting on a balcony at the Pension Vehine overlooking the the anchorage and dramatic hillside of Baie d'Hakahua on the island of Oa Pou in the Marquesas. I was unable to purchase an internet connection card at the post office as it is the weekend; in addition, the post office will be closed on Monday due to some local holiday. Richard had asked me to check in with the gendarmerie (national police) here in Hakahua and when I was done with that formality I asked about the possibility of internet connections in town given that the post office was closed for an extended time. The gendarme told me to try the pizza place that we ate at last night and ask the owner if he might let me use his connection at his hotel. The hospitality of the islanders has been nothing short of remarkable everywhere we have been in the Marquesas. The owner of the pizza place and hotel set me up on the balcony overlooking the bay with a cold bottle of water and gave me the password to the wifi connection. Slow, but who cares, I'm in the Marquesas!

Just a small map so you get an idea of howthe islands are laid out.

Our three weeks here have been amazing. The scenery is truly other worldly with high volcanic peaks covered in lush tropical vegetation, basaltic spires resembling a skyline, crystal clear aquamarine water, coconut palm fringed beaches...you get the idea. Thus far we have been on four of the main islands: Hiva Oa (where we checked into the country), Tahuata, Fatu Hiva, and Oa Pou, We are currently in Oa Pou and are one of two boats in the anchorage; the other boat being our buddies from s/v Kyanos, Ben and Jory. We met Ben and Jory in Atuona on Hiva Oa and have done some hiking, snorkeling, and hanging out with them along the way. They arrived here in Hakahua a few days ago and will be heading to Nuku Hiva, our next stop, in the next day or two and Richard and I will be right behind them.

The backdrop at the anchorage in Atuonas, Hiva Oa.

Hiva Oa was our first glimpse of the Marquesas and it didn't disappoint. The anchorage was full of boats from all over the world; some we had heard on the Pacific Puddle Jumpers' Net, and others we introduced ourselves to over the course of the four days we were anchored there. The town of Atuona was a thirty minute hike away and offered a post office, a bank, two restaurants, and three little grocery stores, in addition to a few tourist attractions. We went on a hike with Ben and Jory one day and ended up bailing before we even hit the half way mark. We were only three days out from being on the boat for 35 days and still hadn't quite gotten our land legs back so hiking was quite the challenge for both Richard and I. We turned around and heading back the trail head where we waited around for a bit before deciding to head back to the boat. We had signaled to Ben that we were turning around and when we reached the trail head, I climbed a mango tree and shook a branch which dislodged a bunch of ripe mangoes; some we ate, others we packed to take back to the boat and some were left, with a note, for Ben and Jory. Not a bad hike after all, even if we didn't make it to the top of the ridge with them.

Approaching Baie Vaitah on Isle Tahuata.

After Hiva Oa, it was off to Tahuata, a mere 10 miles away. We got to sail across the channel separating the two islands and pulled into a anchorage with about five other boats, including Kyanos. It was rumored that you could swim with mantas in Baie Hanamoenoa, though we did not see any mantas while we were there. While we were in Baie Hanamoenoa, I took advantage of the crystal clear water to scrub the remainder of the gooseneck barnacles off of the boat's waterline and hull. What a chore that was! Those suckers cling fast and you have to scrape them off using what looks like a plastic pastry scrapper, in addition to a scrub brush all the while holding onto a suction cup handle attached to the side of the boat. Hard work! But at least it was in a beautiful tropical setting, so I can't complain too loudly.

A school of fish in the surge at Baie Vaitah, Tahuata.

From Hanamoenoa we sailed to Baie Vaitah, a mere couple of miles away and took a walk with the guys from Kyanos into the jungle. Along the way ate mangoes, drank coconut water fresh from a coconut (I have become quite proficient at cracking these things open to get to the prize...fresh coconut water and meat!), gathered limes, bananas and papayas to take back to our boats. In the afternoon, Ben , Jory and I snorkeled off of the town pier and saw tons of fish swimming around a coral reef, in addition to a large eel. Jory even spotted a shark at one point and it was then that we decided to get out of the water.

Rock formations in the anchorage at Fatu Hiva.

Early the next morning, Richard and I raised the anchor and headed south to the island of Fatu Hiva and the fabled Bay of Virgins. It was originally called the Bay of Penises due to the volcanic spires that rise triumphantly from the ridge behind the bay but thanks to the cleansing foresight of the missionaries that visited these islands (and, luckily for us, the rest of the world!), they renamed the bay so as to save the rest of mankind from the indecent and shameful name of BAY OF PENISES. As a side note, if any of you don't know me, please be advised that the above rant should be read with the heaviest dose of sarcasm you can muster...those of you that do know me, I'm sure you could audibly hear the sarcasm in your head. Baie Hanavave will forever be the Bay of Penises in my mind. Although, truth be told, the spires here were not as phallic looking as the ones we encountered upon entering the anchorage at Baie d'Hakahua on Ua Pou.

Jory, me, Richard and Ben at the waterfall on Fatu Hiva.

We hiked to a waterfall described in our guide books through a dense wet forest with the crew of Kyanos. Unfortunately, we couldn't go into the pool under the falls due to contamination from wild pigs and horses in the area (not sure what that's about but decided not to risk it; besides, the water had a pronounced algae growth). On our way back to the boat, we ran into other cruisers who had looked for the waterfall but had been unsuccessful. We told them how to reach the falls and they thanked us. The four of them were on two boats, three of them were French and the fourth was Australian. We chatted for a while and exchanged future itineraries (which are typically written in sand, as they say) before parting. The next day, as we were getting ready to do an overnight passage back to the north shore of Hiva Oa, one of the boats in the anchorage appeared to come free of its anchor and several dinghies were seen attaching lines to the runaway boat in an attempt to secure it; not sure where the owners were, possibly on shore. After dinner, Richard and i raised our anchor and started off on our overnight to Baie Hanaiapa on the north shore of Hiva Oa.

The yacht club on Baie Hanaiapa, Hiva Oa.

The passage was wet. Every squall within the general area it appears made a bee line for our heading and dumped on us copious amounts of water. Sometimes I like this, this time I did not. It seemed cold, and while I know that low 80's is really not cold, it is a relative experience and to me it seemed cold that night so the rain was not really welcomed. Plus we had to motor the whole way so that was no fun. When we finally arrived in the morning, we were both tired and decided to lounge around. Richard dinghied me to shore and I walked for a couple of hours along a road that was heading up into the mountains. Along the way, an elderly gentleman called out and asked if I was coming from a boat to which I replied that i was. He told me to return in about an hour to his "yacht club". I looked around and saw his sign and told him that i would return. When I returned, William Poepoepani told me that he has been inviting cruisers that visit his bay to his house to sign his guest book and asked if I would please sign his book. He offered me cold water and let me look through the three guestbooks he kept. I recognized some of the more recent entries as those of boats that had crossed the Pacific with us and penned an entry for Osprey. On my way out, Mr. Poepoepani offered me several green papayas, watercress and a pamplemousse. To thank him, I gave him a small zip lock bag containing five new barbed fishing hooks which he took and told me he would give to his son who fished the bay to feed his family. I walked back to the boat satisfied that the hooks would be put to good use.

Osprey anchored off of Baie Hanaiapa, Hiva Oa.

The next day we went to Baie Hanamenu, just a few miles up the coast. The water here was kind of murky and murky waters make me nervous because you wouldn't be able to see sharks if there were any so no snorkeling here. Instead, Richard and I walked to shore and I took a bath in a fresh water stream near the shore. It may have been there that I came into contact with something that the next day made my skin break out in a rash. Lovely.Our sail from Baie Hanamenu on Hiva Oa to Baie d'Hakahua on Oa Pou couldn't have

been better. We had between 15 and 25 knots of wind from the right direction with only a moderate swell so we were able to sail on a nice tack the entire way keeping our speed in the mid to upper 6 knot range most of the way. When we arrived in the anchorage, we saw that Kyanos was the only other boat in the

Ua Pou "skyline".

anchorage. After setting both a bow and stern anchor, we dinghied over to their boat, picked up Ben, and went into town for pizza and beers. After dinner, we returned to our boat and chatted until midnight with Ben. I finally told Ben that I had to dinghy him back to his boat and that Richard and I had to get some sleep as we had gotten up at 5:30 AM to make the crossing from Hiva Oa. And thus ended another perfect day in paradise.

Next, we leave for Nuku Hiva where I will upload this post and begin my new post of our time in Nuku Hiva. Stay tuned for photos of my ridiculously AWESOME new tattoo!

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

After 35 days of light winds, opposing swell and counter currents, we finally made landfall in Atuona, Hiva Oa in French Polynesia on 05 May 2013. All I can say about that is I am glad to have some terra firma under my feet. Hiva Oa is a beautiful, lush, tropical island with breath taking volcanic mountains with stunning foliage in every direction. We have been here a couple of days and are just now getting our energy back; being a tropical island it is quite humid and very hot pretty much every day. Not complaining, just mentioning.I haven't had a real opportunity to think about my first South Pacific blog but wanted to put up the few posts that I did put together while we were en route from Mexico. These post read in chronological order starting below. Hoping to get the pictures up with the text as well but that might happen in stages.

Monday, 08 April 2013, 13:14 UTC

18° 17’ N 114° 28’ W, 12 miles East of Isla
Clarion

Boat Speed = 3.3 knots, Wind Speed = 10.4
knots from the North

Cockpit Temperature = 72° F/22° C

Sea Temperature at Location = 84° F/28° C

Not all sunrises are colorful.

With just about everything crossed off of our to do list, we got ready
to leave Mexico on 01 April 2013.
Immigration was simple and painless and within less than one half hour
we had our zarpe in hand. Bob and Joyce of s/v Chara helped us toss of the docklines and took pictures as we
slipped out of Paradise Village Marina and headed towards La Cruz de
Huanacaxtle to fill up the diesel tank and our two jerry cans prior to leaving
Banderas Bay for the South Pacific. Once
topped off, we turned the boat west and entered Banderas Bay. We were able to hoist the sails and soon
found ourselves sailing out towards the horizon, taking advantage of the
thermal winds that formed in the late afternoons on the bay. The afternoon changed to early evening and we
watched the first of many sunsets pass below the bow of Osprey.

Our first day out at sea was complete with winds, whales and warm
temperatures. The winds began to
diminish and the whales disappeared;
luckily we still had some warm temperatures (though not as warm as we both had
anticipated). After our fourth night
out, we decided to stop in at Isla Socorro and drop the anchor for the
night. This was a pretty easy decision
to make since the island was directly in our intended path and we didn’t have
to alter our course that much to make the anchorage.

Upon entering the naval harbor, we were in contact with fellow cruisers
aboard s/v Kiapa who instructed us to
hail the Mexican navy once we were in the protected cove. Unfortunately, our arrival coincided with the
arrival of a naval ship and when we tried to hail the navy on the radio, amidst
broken Spanish on our part and limited English on their part, the only thing we
really understood was the phrase “You are forbidden to be here!”, uttered a
couple of times by the Mexican capitania
de Puerto. Hearing that message loud
and clear, we exited the naval harbor and went around the corner to a small and
“somewhat” protected bay where we found s/v Kiapa
and s/v Peregrine anchored.

As soon as we anchored we were hailed on the radio by Maria on s/v Peregrine asking if we wanted to join
the crew on her boat for lunch on Kiapa. Despite being overly tired, Richard and I
agreed and were picked up by Irene in Kiapa’s
dinghy a couple of hours later along with Maria, Bob, and their crew, Francois (the same Francois who helped me out
with the French classes) and made our way to Kiapa.

Catamarans were made for entertaining.
The main salon of Kiapa is
quite spacious with a table set in the port side aft corner. Irene and Lionel
of s/v Kiapa had two crew with them,
Alan and Elizabeth. Along with the crew
of s/v Peregrine and Richard and I,
that made nine people, which Kiapa was easily able to accommodate. We had an enjoyable lunch with the other
cruisers and Maria even brought out a bottle of champagne so we toasted our
early accomplishment of making it several hundred miles offshore. But fatigue soon caught up with Richard and I
and we were dinghied back to Osprey
for a much needed nap.

Later in the afternoon, s/v Cariba
showed up and anchored with the rest of us.
We had seen Cariba a few months earlier when we were anchored out
in Punta de Mita.

Approaching Isla Socorro.

We only ended up staying the one night as the weather forecast showed
winds conducive to making good progress west.
As we headed out of the naval harbor, we actually had to check in and
out before we left Isla Socorro, we noticed Cariba
also leaving the anchorage and after hailing them on the radio, we discovered
that we would be sailing together towards our next waypoint.

Sidebar regarding s/v Kiapa: We had seen this large, aqua-colored
catamaran several times while we were traveling in Mexico. Richard mentioned several times that he
thought we had seen this same boat when we were in Hanalei Bay in Kaua’i back
in the summer of 2010. Looking at the
boat’s home port, I told Richard that the since the boat hailed from Fremantle,
Australia, it was unlikely that this was the same boat since we had talked with
the owners of the boat while in Hanalei and found out that they were locals
from the east side of the island of Kaua’i.
Well, as it turns out, Irene and Lionel bought Kiapa in Kaua’I, didn’t change the name and so this was indeed the
same catamaran that we had seen a few years back. I was able to dig up some digital pictures of
Kiapa in Hanalei Bay and gave them to
the new owners.

After picking up our anchor and heading away from Isla Socorro, we made
our way towards a waypoint that our weather router had provided us with in a
report the other day. We were hailed by Cariba and they wanted to know if we had
thought about stopping at Isla Clarion on our way southwest. To be honest, we hadn’t really thought about
it but the idea of stopping in the middle of the Pacific Ocean just to have
lunch had some appeal to it. That said,
we made an adjustment to our course and followed Cariba towards Isla Clarion.

Isla Clarion.

Cariba arrived at the
anchorage, Bahia Azufre, at dawn and we were still a few miles to the
east. We finally arrived around 10:30 AM
local time and dropped our anchor in the bluest water I think I’ve seen to
date. As I watched the windlass feed out
the chain, I could actually see our anchor as it descended down to about 40
feet where it was eventually consumed by the darker blue of the water. The clouds we had watched gather all morning
started to break up but it was still a bit chilly, by our new standards, to
actually go into the water. Instead, we
decided to sit in the cockpit and relax while watching the waves break forcefully
on shore. The island is volcanic in
origin and you could see signs of the volcanic soil in the many cones and
outcroppings that dotted the landscape.
As we were sitting in the cockpit, I noticed a green sea turtle swim by;
it was the size of a coffee table! Nothing
makes wildlife hide faster or more securely than someone running for a camera
so, needless to say, I didn’t get a photo.

We could see the crew of Cariba
diving off of a volcanic reef on the eastern shore of the island and watched
them and a group of about three whales cavorting in the water. The Mexican navy boarded Cariba and spent some time on their boat. When they pulled away from Cariba, I mentioned to Richard that we
had better get some fenders out as it looked like the Mexican navy was coming
to our boat. As they approached our
boat, with somewhat less than the professionalism we have witnessed during
other boardings, I overheard the word “cervezas” being thrown around their panga and noticed that the guys were
much more interested in watching the female crew from Cariba take off her wetsuit and peel down to her bathing suit, than
they were in actually doing any kind of official business at our boat. I guess it was a win-win situation for both Osprey and the Mexican navy that day.

After lunch we picked up our anchor and headed away from isla
Clarion. We hailed Cariba and let them know what coordinates we were going to be using
and mentioned that we would keep in touch by radio. We set our course directly for the Marquesas,
on a heading of 212° by the compass; unfortunately, that heading was a bit
uncomfortable due to the swells hitting Osprey
on the beam, so we corrected the course to optimize speed gained by the good
North-Northwest winds (in the 15-20 knots range) and ended up steering a course
of about 235° which was still in keeping with out southwest heading. We ended up keeping that heading through the
night as the winds ended switching from a North-Northwest direction to a
North-Northeast direction. Right now,
the headsail is poled out to port and we are running pretty much downwind with
a small triangle of the headsail out to stabilize the boat. Not making the fastest time right now, but we
are on course and the winds will probably build towards early afternoon and allow
us to make a nice run throughout the afternoon and into the early evening with
faster speed under the hull.

Yesterday, right before the Pacific Puddle Jumpers SSB Net, a booby
landed on the boom. It is not uncommon
for sea birds to circle the mast of a sailboat numerous times looking for an
opportunity to land on the mast. Most of
the times, the boat is yawling so much that the birds will circle and approach
several times and then eventually give up on the idea. Our booby was a bit more tenacious. After circling the mast several times and
finding it untenable to his desires, our booby made an approach to the section
of the boom that overhangs the cockpit.
I was standing in the cockpit and the booby suddenly came flying towards
me with both his feet extended as in a landing position. I should mention that this particular booby
was of the “regular” and dusky-colored feet and not that of the much acclaimed
blue-footed sub-specie. After several
approaches like this, the booby landed on the boom; actually, he landed on the
outhaul (the line that is used to unfurl the mailsail out of the mast) and as
such, it required much effort on his part to remain upright on the line. Why he didn’t move his feet to the wider and
sturdier boom is beyond me; then again, he was a booby.

In any event, our booby friend stayed with us for quite some time. We finally evicted him when he shat in the
cockpit. I tried to gently nudge him on
his way first by unsuccessfully waving my arms in his general direction and
then by spraying him with the washdown hose which was also unsuccessful. Seeing that the bird looked like he thought
he was put for the night and knowing that one shat is one too many, I retrieved
the boathook and attempted to gently assist him in his flight from the
boom. This did not go as planned as the booby
simply hopped onto the boat hook like it was a perch and there I stood in the
heaving cockpit holding a boat hook on which was perched a substantial and
determined booby of the “regular” dusky-colored feet sub-specie.

Our friend was not pleased about being asked to leave.

I called Richard from down below and when he appeared in the
companionway, he must have thought that I was practicing some kind of circus
act standing there with a booby on the boathook. His expression asked “what are going to do
now?” and as I thought about this I considered my options carefully. I decided to count to three (not sure why I
did that, as though this gave the booby advance notice of an action about to
happen) and then “toss” the booby from the boat hook. This actually worked out quite well; until I
noticed the booby making continued circles around the boat and eyeing the boom
again. I stood my ground and guarded the
boom by meeting the booby on the approach side of the boom and waving my arms
in his general direction. This
successfully prevented him from landing on the boom; however, in his constant
fly-bys, he noticed the unguarded pulpit on the bow and soon I found him
perched there. In the end, I decided
that cleaning up the bowsprit was an easier task than cleaning booby poop from
the canvas in the cockpit or from having to climb the mast and fix whatever
instruments he might have damaged if he had successfully landed on the mast.

In the end, we learned to live with our booby friend; but the stench of
his poop still lingers in the cockpit despite numerous washings with Simple
Green.

We have added another waypoint to our course to the South Pacific. This one is labeled “ITCZ” which stands for
Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone and represents a fluid area that expands and
contracts at will, hovering just north of the equator, confining within its
boundaries minimal winds and squally conditions. The idea is to cross the ITCZ at its
narrowest point thereby minimizing the amount of time spent in the conditions
described above. Ideally, crossing the
ITCZ at its narrowest point while the ITCZ is flexing/moving north and you are
moving south would be the most efficient way to accomplish this, albeit timing
this situation which is dependent on many variables is quite the longshot. Most people just look for an opening, hope
it’s a narrow part of the ITCZ, turn on the motor and try to plow through it as
fast as they can. This scenario is
wholly dependent on having conserved enough fuel to motor the hundreds of miles
of windless sea that can be expected, even at the narrowest portions.

Sunset over the pacific.

On a brighter note, all of our fruits and vegetables are holding up
quite well so there is no vitamin deficiency or scurvy lurking on our
horizons. Meals have been both
nutritious and varied; we’ve made stir-fries (with mahi mahi and sierra),
curries (with snapper), and beef stew, just to name a few of the meals we’ve
had. Richard made a key lime pie last
night that we enjoyed after our dealings with the booby. Our fruit supply is dwindling though. I have been making fruit salad for breakfast
using the pineapple, cantaloupe, mangoes, and papaya, and I think I have about
one more container’s worth of fruit for that.
After that, we still have about 20 oranges, 4 grapefruits, several kilos
of limes, and some bananas that we are waiting on to ripen.

Our vegetables are also holding our nicely. We still have a bunch of potatoes, several
heads of broccoli and cabbage, onions, green and red peppers, carrots, celery,
tomatoes, lettuce, and garlic that are doing well refrigerated. The freezer is filled with individual
portions of chicken, pork, beef, ground beef, hotdogs (I know, but they last
indefinitely!), and several kinds of fish (mahi mahi, sierra and snapper), not
to mention several containers of egg whites, a frozen banana bread, ice cream,
ice cubes, and regular eggs (three eggs, scrambled and portioned into small
airtight containers). Richard continues
to make bread as we need it, about twice a week, and prior to our leaving
Mexico, he made a large quantity of granola.
We also made batches of cookies (chocolate chip and ginger snaps) before
we left. I had cooked and then portioned
out and froze chicken that we use to make chicken salad. Our typical week of lunches includes four
days of tuna salad sandwiches, two days of chicken salad sandwiches and one day
of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches…at least until that gets boring. When that happens, I may have to get creative
with things like hummus, TVP patties (textured vegetable protein…thanks
Nicole!), and salads made from anything in the fridge that looks like “it’s
about to go”. And there’s always ramen
noodles! HA!

Yesterday started off with a booby circling
the mast looking for an opportunity to land.
Once it saw that the boat was yawling too much, it flew away; but not
too far, in fact, it seemed preoccupied directly behind the boat…or more
precisely, directly on my fishing lure.
I suddenly had an image of having to reel in a booby (flashback to my
brother Gregg, around 8 or 9 years old, reeling in a pelican in Clearwater
Beach, Florida…not a fun scene). The
booby kept diving on near my lure so I decided to reel in before it got a
chance to gobble down one of my last tuna lures.

As I was reeling in, the line felt as though
it had some resistance on it but not much and at first I thought it was just
the resistance of the lure being pulled through the swells behind the
boat. When the terminal end of the line
got close enough to the boat, I could clearly see that a small fish was
attached and I thought I had caught a flying fish, because that was the only
fish I had seen in the water for the past week or so. But no, it wasn’t a flying fish at all; it
was the world’s smallest mahi mahi! Yes
folks, I finally caught the elusive mahi mahi only to find out that I had
“robbed the cradle” and brought in a 10 inch mahi mahi. It was small enough to put in a bowl and keep
as a pet. I wasted no time in getting
him off of the line and released him into the ocean in the hopes that this
would earn me some good karma and a bigger specimen of the same specie would
soon jump on my line.

Luckily at this point in the trip we are not
desperate for fresh fish as the freezer and fridge are still quite full of
fresh foods. But the time will come and
I hope that we do not regret having released this tiny mahi mahi.

Two days ago we were visited by a school of
spotted dolphin. There were about 20-30
of them all swimming around the boat. I
had gone below to get the video camera and had returned to the bow when all of
a sudden Richard yelled, “Fish on!” As I
made my way back to the cockpit I arrived just in time to watch as the last of
the braided line fed out of the reel and snapped off. At that point I suspected that we might have
had a tuna on the line as tuna are known to swim with dolphins and the strike
occurred simultaneously with the appearance of the dolphins. Certainly a successful diversion tactic on
the fish’s part who now sports some gleaming hardware in the form of a purple
and black tuna lure with a hefty hook (I bet all his tuna friends think he
looks cool now with his tribal hardware!).
Down to my last few expensive tuna lures (don’t want to mention how many
I have gone through) and after that it’s back to cheapie spoon lures. At least if I lose those I won’t feel so bad.

Nothing else happened over the past few days
if you don’t count seeing endless swells streaming past the boat, hundreds of
flying fish “flying” through the air, new noises discovered on the boat,
spilled containers (due to the rocking and rolling of the boat), and other high
seas adventures.

A couple of days ago, I caught my first “keeper” mahi mahi; it was 19
inches long which was just long enough to carve out two fillets, which is my
new threshold for determining whether or not a fish is worthy of keeping. I have been catching smaller mahi mahis all
week and Richard and I have decided that until fresh protein is required, we
can be a little picky about which fish we keep; especially since we have been
catching fish all week. This guy was
quickly filleted and ended up in a sauce of freshly diced tomatoes, onions,
garlic and spinach over brown basmati rice…yum!
We would have loved to grill the fillets but that is kind of hard when
you’re on a passage, especially given the bouncy nature of the boat right now.

He made excellent mahi-mahi tacos.

We have been visited by more dolphin and I especially kook forward to
daytime visits when my fishing line is out.
I read somewhere that tuna are frequently found swimming with dolphin
and would love to hook into a tuna at this point. There is always room in the fridge and or
freezer for freshly caught tuna.

Last night, after listening to the Pacific Puddle Jumpers’ net on the
single side band radio, I was standing in the cockpit talking to Richard who
was down below when all of a sudden I was bombarded by flying squid! It was dark out so at first I didn’t know
what had hit me and initially thought it was a single flying fish until I
continued to get hit by more squishy little things. Richard turned on the cockpit light and we
discovered about 25 small squid lying about in the cockpit. They were only about 2-4 inches long and most
of them had ejected their ink so there was quite a mess to clean up; I used a
spatula to carefully scoop them up and toss them overboard. I was momentarily tempted to keep some of
them for bait but decided against that remembering all the jack crevalle I have
in the freezer for bait.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with how a radio net works, here’
the gist: Someone volunteers to be the
“net controller”. This person is in
charge of controlling the flow of “traffic” (conversation) that is relayed
during the net. Our particular net is
designed to assist boaters who are making the crossing from North America to
the South Pacific with the majority of boats having left Mexico and heading
towards French Polynesia. The net
controller begins the net by asking if there is any “priority or emergency
traffic”; this is an opportunity for anyone with a serious issue to get
assistance or for anyone who heard a serious call (i.e., “Mayday”) to relay it
to the net. After that, the net
controller opens the net by stating his/her latitude/longitude, wind
speed/direction, and boat speed/direction.
The net controller then goes through a “roll call” and calls for a
specific boat, asking whether or not that boat is “on frequency” and if it is,
to “come now.” If the boat is on
frequency, the typical response is, “This is Osprey, how copy?”; “How copy” is
simply a way for one boat to ask whether the reception of its transmission is
good, light, or unreadable. Sometimes,
the net controller can’t get a good copy but another boat in the fleet can hear
the called boat better so that boat ends up providing what is called a “relay”,
and takes the information from the called boat and relays it to the net
controller.

Once the information is relayed from the called boat to the net controller,
the net controller repeats the information back over the net and asks if the
information is correct, which the boat verifies or corrects as needed. Once that boat is finished the net controller
“breaks” with the previous boat and goes to the next boat on the roll call and
repeats this process until all boats on the roll call have “signed in.” At the end of the roll call, the net
controller asks if there is any “traffic”; “traffic” is when one boat wants to
talk to another boat. Here’s a sample of
what a conversation might sound like:

“Is there any traffic for the
net, come n

ow, over.”

“This is Osprey, over.”

“Osprey, go ahead with your
traffic, over.”

“Osprey would like to meet with Cariba after the net on channel 12
alpha, over.” “Cariba, did you copy
that, over?”

“This is Cariba, copy that, over.”

Geeky I know, but it’s kind of cool especially when the net controller
goes through about 20-30 boats and you’ve been “watching” these boats make
their way southwest from Mexico to the South Pacific for the past few
weeks. You definitely get a sense of
which boats are the fast ones (we’re not) and which ones are travelling
together, etc. It has been fun and provides
a little entertainment to break up the day after dinner.

Dozens of these guys bombarded the boat...and made a mess!

Well, the sun is up and it’s getting warm so I need to go clean the boat
after last night’s squid invasion (there is squid ink EVERYWHERE!).

So it has been a week since the last time I
have written a blog post and honestly, not much has happened. We continue to experience light winds and
moderate swells, punctuated by squalls which provide a brief reprieve from the
heat and humidity of the day, but usually the squalls occur at night when it is
cooler. We are traveling a lot slower
than we had hoped and at this rate we are not expecting our landfall in the
Marquesas until the beginning of May. As
I mentioned, and Richard has blogged about on his blog, we have had
exceptionally light winds (in the 2-8 knot range), swells approaching from two
directions producing confused seas which in turn makes it harder for the boat
to move through the water (further slowing our progress) and a countercurrent
that just doesn’t seem to relent. We
will occasionally get stronger winds in the 15-20 knots range and think, “Yee
ha! Let’s get speed under this boat and
put some miles on!” Then you look at the
speedometer and see that even though you have 18 knots of wind from a favorable
direction, you’re still only doing about 3 knots, which is slow for that much
wind. Oh well, it’s only weather and we
can’t do anything about it.

Oddly enough, there is a sunset every night.

So with the prospect of spending more time
on the passage to French Polynesia than initially anticipated it’s a good thing
that we provisioned for one and one half the amount of time that we thought it
would take us to get there; we initially calculated 30 days and multiplied that
by 1.5 to arrive at the quantities of food and supplies we would need. Luckily, the fishing hasn’t been too
bad. I have caught several mahi mahis
along the way and feel as though the fishing is good enough that I don’t have
to have my line in the water every day as I’m fairly confident that when I feel
it’s time to catch a fish I can usually do so within a day or two. The last mahi mahi I caught was 24 inches
from nose to fork in tail and weighted about 10 pounds. I had initially caught this fish and when we
got him to the side of the boat, he jumped off of the hook, much to our
chagrin. I immediately threw the line
back into the water and within 10 minutes I had caught the same fish! This time we were more careful when bringing him
on board and he landed right in the cockpit where we wanted him. He was a bloody mess by the time he finished
thrashing about and I was able to knock him.
I made fish tacos out of him that first night and they were the freshest
mahi mahi tacos we had during our entire time in Mexico. There are still some fillets in the freezer
that we will take out a cook up soon as well.

I won’t go into the disaster that was our
engine starter getting toasted due to a suspected short somewhere in the wiring
except to say that that was a scary experience.
Here you are, literally in the middle of the ocean, with no help for
thousands of miles around you and something major and bad happens; despite
being a sailboat and us going on and on about wanting to sail the boat rather than motor, you need the motor for essential
tasks like motoring into a harbor and charging the batteries (solar doesn’t
always do the job). Richard was able to
problem solve that one quickly and we worked together to figure out what we
needed to do, who was responsible for what and just did it. We ended up trying to heave to for the night
but that didn’t seem to work out very well so we just dropped all the sails and
literally bobbed around overnight. In
the morning, I checked our position and in about 8 hours we had only lost about
one mile north and gained four miles west; in the end, the one mile north was
considered minor and the four miles west were part of our original course
anyways. With the starter replaced, we
cranked over the engine and started out on our course again.

A couple of days ago, Richard woke me from a
nap to point out some pilot whales that were passing close by the boat. We were sailing at the time so we weren’t
making much noise which probably accounted for why the whales were so close;
and by “so close” I’m actually saying a least 100 feet away. When you are the only object in your entire
field of vision and when you look around you, literally do a 360 degree sweep,
100 feet is considered close.

And the sun rises every day as well.

In addition to the four pilot whales we have
also seen tons of flying fish, squid (as described previously), mahi mahi and
dolphins. Sometimes at night, before the
moon appears in the sky, you can look off the side of the boat and see patches
of bioluminescence traveling alongside the boat that are completely different
than the type of bioluminescence you see when dolphins show up at night. When dolphins show up at night and stir up
the bioluminescence, it looks like old movie torpedoes heading straight towards
the boat and then turning at right angles to get to the bow of the boat where
the dolphins swim in the bow wave. The
dolphins usually swim around the boat, circling back and forth to the bow
creating loopy curlicues of bioluminescence in their wakes.

This other type of bioluminescence I’ve only
seen occasionally and it is different in that it appears to pulsate as it moves
along with the boat. It isn’t a long
arcing path like the trails behind the dolphins. This is more of a succinct, pulse of
bioluminescence. At this point, I’m
inclined to believe that this may be larger squid traveling near the surface in
a feeding mode. I’ll have to look that
up when I get a chance.

We’ve also seen a couple of different kinds
of pelagic birds out here that I am still trying to identify.

Last night we actually saw a fishing boat
that came within 2.5 miles of our boat.
Since our radio-friends on s/v Cariba
zoomed past us a few days out of Isla Clarion (and that was about 10 days
ago!), we haven’t seen any other vessels out here. You can imagine the excitement then of seeing
a boat so close in the middle of the ocean.

keeping our eyes peeled for ANY vessels near us.

Yesterday the swells seemed to flatten out
and the ocean actually looked like a dessert, at least to me it did. The surface looked like windblown sand and
everything also looked smooth as opposed to the pointy waves that typically
characterize the ocean. That only lasted
one day and it’s just too bad that we didn’t have winds of say, 15-20 knots out
of the east and lost the countercurrent because if all those variables had come
into play at the same time we would have had a wonderful day of sailing and
making great progress towards our goal; which still stands at over one thousand
miles away.

Well, a lot has happened since the last time
I updated this post. WE have definitely
transited the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) as we are pretty much no
longer plagued by the light winds as described above. The winds have shifted from the southeast to
the east as we are definitely in the trade winds that we have been anticipating
since getting out of the ITCZ; additionally, the winds are a bit stronger
ranging from 12 to 20 at times which is a vast improvement and allows us to
make considerable headway towards the South Pacific.

We crossed the equator on 27 April 2013 at
around 3:00 PM local Pacific Daylight Time (we decided to leave the clocks on
the boat on PDT until we make landfall in the Marquesas, so when I mention
local time, at this point, it refers to Seattle time). To mark our becoming “shellbacks”, Richard
and I donned silly outfits complete with mardi gras beads, silly hats and
capes, I made a fudge marble cake (gotta love boxed cake mixes sometimes) and
we opened Mexican bottles of beer to mark the occasion. We offered the obligatory cake and libations
to Neptune, and as Captain, Richard made a speech about our thanks to Neptune
and asked for favorable conditions to continue.
I shook up and opened a Pacifico beer to help Neptune wash down the
chocolate cake. Nothing says celebrate
quite like chocolate cake and Bohemia beers in the middle of the Pacific
Ocean. My only disappointment was that
there wasn’t a red line marking the equator like in all those Bugs Bunny
cartoons I grew up on.

Two days ago I hooked into a really fighting
fish and battle this bad boy for a good 15-20 minutes, getting him to the boat
and decided to let him tire himself out (and allow myself to rest a bit) before
attempting to haul him over the lifelines and into the cockpit. As I was waiting, with plenty of tension on
the line, he was overcome by a swell of adrenaline and started thrashing about,
ultimately shaking loose the hook and swimming away. Needless to say I was immensely…dare I say
it?, yes I will…pissed! I had hooked
into a very decent sized yellowtail tuna (the length is currently under debate
as I tend to exaggerate in one direction while I believe Richard exaggerates in
the other), somewhere between 2 and 4 feet in length, and struggled with him
for quite a while. When he jumped off, I
swore and then immediately threw my hook back in the water hoping to fool him
again into taking the bait but either he had wised up to the situation or was
just plain ol’ sore from the tremendous fight he had just engaged in with me. That tuna was going to taste soooo good too,
I could just tell. Oh well, next time.

With less than 300 miles to go the
excitement on Osprey is definitely
mounting. We expect to arrive on
Saturday, 04 May 2013, sometime in the afternoon. The immigration office will likely be closed
but Richard has been in communication with our hired agent and was told that we
can drop our anchor in the bay at Atuona on Hiva Oa, raise our pratique flag (otherwise known as the
“Q” flag or quarantine flag) and enjoy the weekend in Atuona before completing
customs on Monday. This will actually
give us a couple extra days in the country as our visas are only for 90 days
and cover the Marquesas, the Tuamotos, and Society Islands (Tahiti, Bora Bora, etc.). It’ll just be nice to stop the boat for the
first time in over a month and take the dinghy to shore to walk around on terra firma; I am anxiously awaiting
peeing without having to aim at a moving target! The boat needs a good cleaning as do Richard
and myself, and I’m sure we’ll run into other “radio buddies” we’ve been
hearing on the Pacific Puddle Jumpers’ Net while anchored in Hiva Oa.

Our arrival in French Polynesia also marks
the beginning of you, the readers, having to get used to reading some pretty
strange names of places. I’ve been
looking at our guides books and while there is a bit of French peppered into
some of the names in French Polynesia, most of the names still carry the
hallmark of Polynesian languages which are characterized by lots of vowels and
a paucity of consonants (Can you see a Polynesian version of Wheel of Fortune…I’d like to buy an “A”…as
Vanna White moves in to turn 47 A’s.
Care to solve the puzzle?). The
thing I learned about this language from our experience in Hawai’i, is that
every letter, especially every vowel, is pronounced, even if the name is just
four vowels (the island of Eiao in the Marquesas, being an example). Have fun!